


And Then They Dream of Love

by Feelforfaith



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 21:02:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19449472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feelforfaith/pseuds/Feelforfaith
Summary: "You realize you and I are not the only ones he's sleeping with, right?" He turns onto his side to face Steve and props his head on his elbow. It's too damn hot in here. He kicks off the sheet tangled around their legs. "Don't tell me you didn't know what you were getting into."





	And Then They Dream of Love

"You realize you and I are not the only ones he's sleeping with, right?" He turns onto his side to face Steve and props his head on his elbow. It's too damn hot in here. He kicks off the sheet tangled around their legs. "Don't tell me you didn't know what you were getting into." 

Steve is sprawled next to him, one arm behind his head, the other hanging over the edge of the bed. He hasn't moved since he fucked them both into an orgasm that splintered Bucky's brain. Steve never does anything halfway.

His sculpted chest glistens with sweat, calling to Bucky like a temptation nobody can resist. Not that he even tried to resist. He might be many things, but a saint he's not. 

Even though Steve's head is turned away, face obscured by shadows, Bucky can tell he is listening.

"Are you going to fuck them all, too?" He is allowed to touch for a little longer at least, so he does—he brushes his fingers across those steel-perfect muscles that belong on a pin-up poster and pushes away the thought that they are too defined, too perfect. Too hard under his hands. "Not that I regret anything. This was fun an' all, but—"

"He doesn't love you." Steve's words cut like a steel blade of a knife. 

But Bucky is good with knives. And he's not afraid to bleed. "Of course he doesn't. He doesn't love anybody. You haven't figured it out yet?" 

Steve tenses; his hand curls into a fist and his muscles shift under the skin like he's bracing for a blow.

A touch-memory of Steve on top of him flashes through his mind, how Steve forced him down to the bed, ignoring the resistance Bucky faked before their bodies found their frantic cadence. How liberating it was not to hold anything back but go for the jugular and be able to break Steve and be broken in return. His veins ignite with heat again, and his spine curves with want.

He cradles Steve's cheek in his palm and rubs his thumb along Steve's smooth jaw. "Don't let him hurt you." It feels too smooth, too soft. Too much like regret. His fingers ache for the scrape of a stubble. 

Steve leans into the touch like a stray cat looking for a home. "He wouldn't. He won't."

"Not intentionally, no."

Steve opens his eyes and turns his head to Bucky. He pushes Bucky's hair away from his face. "What about you?"

Bucky stares into the void at his feet. He already knows what falling is like. How much worse can this be?

He forces a weary smile, shrugs. "I'm not looking for love."

Steve tangles his fingers in Bucky's hair and drags him closer, his lips hard and greedy, and Bucky opens up for him, breathes in the musky scent it would be so easy to get used to, lets Steve take what he wants and pretends that it doesn't hurt at all.


End file.
